


Born Under a Bad Sign

by neogenesis85



Category: Supernatural, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neogenesis85/pseuds/neogenesis85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running wasn't in Bonnie's blood. But something was chasing her from her town. Her home. And along the way she found herself stuck between an a**hole hybrid and two brothers named after a gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Truth be told, I stopped watching both TVD and SPN a long time ago. Thursday nights have become reserved for On Demand catch-up of other shows, and Friday nights have always been reserved for beer. But I do read the recaps and all kinds of crazy has been going down in both show's that leave me either side-eying the writers or throwing my hands up in a WTF jester.  
> Thank goodness for fanfic. This is my attempt to remedy the mess that Gamble's done to my boys and the crapshoot that has become any storyline that involves Bonnie. Everything is AU from TVD 3x18 ep onwards and completely AU starting at season 3 of SPN.
> 
> In short, "I aim to misbehave." I just hope you enjoy the ride. This is un-beta'd, so please excuse any mistakes.

_  
_Prologue _  
If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all._  
-Albert King  
  


The funny thing about friends was that they were sometimes too damned concerned about your feelings to speak an obvious truth.

And the obvious truth when it came to Bonnie was that she was loosing it.

At first she could understand why they hadn't voiced the worry that was so obvious in in their eyes and the slight frown on the corners of their lips whenever they looked her way. She _had_ been through hell the past couple of weeks. Between the Original family, her mother's turning and Klaus threatening just about everyone she cared about to perform the unbinding spell, she had more then enough reasons to be withdrawn. Incensed. Even more embittered with everything around her.

All of these were normal reactions for Bonnie. And this wasn't the first time she didn't care to hear Elena's 'everything is my fault' platitudes. Nor was it the first time Caroline ignored her attempts to be left alone, barging into her home to drag her out of bed, shovel coffee and scrambled eggs down her throat and cart her off to school.

In truth both of her best friends had been great. Knowing when to back off and when to push respectively. Knowing that she just needed time to process everything before she could really talk about all that happened without losing it and destroying something in a fit of magical rage. She knew her limitations and there were a lot of them. But she also knew her powers, and the anger that had been boiling inside her was strong enough she could taste it in the back of her throat for days. Hot and almost metallic, it was not unlike the blood Stefan had forced her to drink after Damon damn near tore her neck out. With a witch, anger like hers was a blaze that always needed to be put out gently.

And she had been getting there. Between the many meditations in the quiet of her house, or Caroline's impromptu movie marathon nights, or the increasingly easily gifted smiles she and Elena shared as they passed each other in the school hallways, still not really speaking but letting each other know that their sisterhood was still there, she was getting better.

It all came to a head after leaving the Mikaelson household where Damon was still tethered up like a pig for slaughter and Klaus was probably overseeing his torture with that smarmy look of his. Though she wanted nothing more than to be a hundred miles away her shaking legs could no longer handle the weight of everything. The pressure that had been sitting on her chest for god knows how long finally let go and she cried until she thought she'd be sick.

Cathartic. That word that Mrs. Bradley had been stuck on during their freshman literature class finally had a real world meaning for her. When she was able to get her breathing under control and her feet back under her she realized she didn't exactly feel better. But she felt less… raw. Lighter somehow.

She walked away, turning her back on the house and only half caring who was going to show up to save Damon's sorry ass as she wiped the tears away. She knew she should have called someone to come a pick her up. Mystic Falls wasn't exactly a safe place to walk during the daylight hours and doing it at night was just asking for trouble. But getting a ride would involve explaining and she just wanted the night to be over. To crawl in her bed after a hot shower and forget everything around her for the next day or two. To just be left alone.

Figuring her life couldn't be such a cosmic joke that something else could go terrible wrong in the fifteen minutes it would take her to get home, she took the risk of huffing it by foot. If she had known what was waiting ahead for her, she would have gone back and begged Klaus for an escort home. Would have cut open a vein and offered to pay in blood if it would have saved her from experiencing what she didn't see the car at first.

As she was coming around a curve in the rode the insistent beeping of her cell let her know the battery was one button push away from dying distracted her. She slowed her stride, head bent down as she dug in her purse to turn off the phone. As always it had found its way to the bottom of her bag and she was shoving aside her keys and old tubes of lip gloss when a lightening bolt of awareness shot down her spine and stopped her in her tracks. She hitched in a breath as her head snapped up to see a silver sedan parked half-hazardly on the side of the rode, the back door opened slightly.

Everything in her told her to turn and run. Her powers were sizzling throughout her body, ebbing a flowing with the suddenly accelerated beat of her heart. That primordial part of her consciousness was screaming at her that something was wrong there, _very_ wrong, and whatever it was she wanted no part of it. Wanted to be far away from it.

She wasn't one to scare easily or to back down when facing a fear, but she also almost always listened to her intuition. At that moment she figured it was better to tuck tail and live another day then to play the inquisitive hero. Whatever happened there was evil in it's pure and simplest form. Standing thirty feet from the car she could feel it, covering the area like a dome with a thick oppressiveness that almost made it hard to breath. And it was quiet. There was no symphony of southern bugs filling the air, just the muted beep coming from her phone and the open door of the car.

She took a step back, surveyed the dark woods on both sides and realized how isolated she was. Cursing herself for being so stuck in her own head that she literally walked herself right into the situation, she was one muscle twitch away from bolting when she saw the toy laying on the road, visible only because the sedan's interior lights were illuminating the area around it.

She whimpered in the back of her throat, because despite everything her instinct was telling her she _knew_ she was going over there. She had to. It was probably a trap to lure someone in and she was stupid for even considering it, but if there was a child there she had to be sure whoever that doll (with hair made from red yarn and wearing a checkered dress) belonged to was alright.

"No, no, _no_ ," she whispered almost feverishly as if to talk herself out of it. But her feet were moving forward regardless, her right hang clutching the straps of her purse so hard she could hear to leather creaking.

Halfway through her approach she was able to both feel and smell death there. The air was ripe with so much blood and she could see splatters of it on the car's windows. Licking her dry lips she, she moved further to the left of the vehicle, not wanting to be too close and certainly not wanting to get too good of a look of what was inside. Her pulse was beating so fast she could fell it pounding in her temples, and she ground her teeth together when she was finally able to get a look in the back seat.

And saw nothing.

Well, not nothing. There was still blood everywhere, like someone had flung around a paintbrush loaded with it. So much blood that she knew whoever it belonged to couldn't have survived. But there were no bodies to go with it. No little girl. No parents slumped over the steering wheel or passenger seat.

She ground her teeth harder, feeling an ache in her jaw as she looked around in confusion. There was no blood on the ground around the car or leading from it. The only thing she saw in the meager light was a discarded cigarette butt and that damn doll that she was more sure then ever had been left there as bait.

Whatever bravery that had led her there was quickly being replaced by panicky fear and she clamped down on it as best as she could. There was no time for that. She had to get out of there before whatever did this came back to see what their trap had caught.

She started running through her options. Her powers were probably the safest the rely on. But the malevolence that still hung in the air was old, older then any supernatural being she'd had the misfortune of coming across. Already drained from casting the unbinding spell, she didn't know if she had enough left in her the defend herself.

Her only other choices were running or calling for help. Not liking her odds she tried to calm her nerves by controlling her breathing, looking around the whole time and feeling vulnerable standing there in the middle of the road.

"Okay, you can do this," she whispered as she slid her purse from her shoulder to her elbow, intent on digging out her phone (that was still singing it's swan song) and attempt to make a least one call. And regardless if that worked or not, she planned to run like hell after.

Something came from behind and slipped a hand around her forearm. She screamed, loud and piercing because whatever grabbed her had images flying through her head. Images of terrible, sadistic things that made her stomach sour and bile rise up her throat. She suddenly understood what happened to the poor people that owned the car. And she understood even more that the thing that had it's cold, tight grip on her was ancient in way she couldn't even began to comprehend and it had plans for her. Plans it had spent millenniums working on and it was finally time for her to play her part.

Her powers swelled and she lashed out with them, throwing that abomination so far away that she heard it crashing into the woods as she bolted in shear terror for the only safety available. The car.

It was such a stupid, horror movie move to make. But in her panic she could only think of putting something solid between herself and whatever it was that had grabbed her. Using the last bit of her magic she engaged the locks after climbing into the backseat and slamming the door shut.

Looking out the windows into the darkness surrounding her, she dumped her purse and began to search blindly for her cell phone, gagging the whole while. The smell of blood and other things was suffocating inside with all the doors closed. Her eyes were tearing up and she fought back a sob when she heard a giggle from outside.

She never realized how creepy a child's laughter could be.

A figure suddenly banged into the side of the car and she shrieked, scooting away to the opposite side, pressing her back into the door as she eyed the young girl grinning at her through the window. She couldn't be a day over seven, with rounded cheeks and impossibly large eyes. She couldn't make out the color of them or her hair, but she could see enough to know that she was cute. Adorable even. Except for her smile, that gave it away. There was no way someone so young could wear a smile as old and gruesome as that.

"Go away!"

The little girl (thing?) laughed again. "Now that was a silly thing to say. I'm not going anywhere. I've waited a long, _long_ time for someone like you to come along, Bonnie."

She moaned, feeling drained and trapped, not knowing what to do. "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to come inside and play." She heard the door handle rattle. "Won't you let me in?"

Something in the way she spoke let her know she didn't mean just being let inside the car.

"You can go to hell," Bonnie yelled with more conviction then she felt.

The smile vanished then and suddenly the girl's pupils disappeared, leaving nothing but white. Bonnie blinked, astounded because she'd never seen something like that before and feeling her heart skip a beat because she'd obviously pissed the thing off.

"Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say."

The girls fist came up and she watched as it came down on the window hard enough to crack the safety glass. Bonnie didn't sit around to wait for her to break all the way through.

She climbed into the front, ignoring the drying blood and spongy pieces of flesh as she searched franticly for something to defend herself with. Behind her she could hear the glass being broken out punch by punch just as her eyes landed on the car keys still in the ignition. Sliding into the drivers seat, she turned on the car and gunned the gas so hard the back tires fishtailed in the dirt a few seconds before gaining traction.

The thing trying to get in let out a screech as it was forced to yank itself from the remains of the back window. Bonnie looked at the rearview mirror long enough to see it standing in the middle on the road, fists clenched as it was bathed in red from the retreating car's taillights.

She didn't remember the drive but somehow she found herself parked in front of the boarding house in one piece and Caroline was pleading for her to unlock the door before she pulled it off it's hinges. It took her a moment to realize she was crying hysterically, taking in huge gulps of air that hurt as they went down. There was music coming from the speakers, some Kidz Bop album that was so out of place in that moment that it felt surreal. She started beating on the radio, trying to silence it as her chest tightened. A small part of her understood that she was having a panic attack but she couldn't care enough to try to calm down, even as the edges of her vision started to go dark and the world closed in on her.

She didn't know how long she'd been out, but she didn't feel at all rested when she came to and everything was still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened only seconds ago. One look around the room let her know she was still at the Salvatore's. She sat up, looking down at the clean clothes she was wearing and not seeing any blood anywhere. Someone must have bathed and changed her. She hoped they burned what she had on earlier.

A creak from the doorway announced someone entering and she looked over to see Stefan standing there. It wasn't the person she wanted to see.

"Bonnie," he said by way of greeting, "How are you feeling?"

She let out a pathetic chuckle, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes, trying to fight back tears. She thought she'd be cried out by now. "I just had the worst night of my life. How do you think I feel?"

When she looked up again he was sitting in a chair by the bed. She flinched back and he frowned at her.

"What happened to you? Did you hurt someone? That car you pulled up in…" he trailed off, the look on his face saying enough.

"I didn't do that," she said with clenched teeth, anger gathering at the fact that he could even entertain the idea that she could be responsible for such carnage. "It was like that when I found it. I was trying to help when that thing grabbed me."

"What thing?" he asked

She shook her head, her anger evaporating as she recalled standing by the car and smelling the blood, and the feel of that cold hand on her arm. "Oh, god. I saw what happened to them. When that, that thing touched me. I saw what it did and it was terrible. "

"What thing, Bonnie?" Stefan pushed.

"I don't know what it was! It was wearing that little girl like a suit. It was so old, Stefan," she shivered a little, "And it had white eyes. I made it mad and it's eyes turned white."

"White eyes?"

She nodded, "It wasn't like anything I've seen before. There was nothing good in it. Just old and evil."

A look of recognition crossed his face briefly before he sat back in the chair. She could see the wheels turning in his head, those every present frown lines deepening as he looked over her head.

"You know something." It came out like an accusation. Stefan turned his hazel eyes back to her and sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'll need to check some things first," he stood then, pressing a gentle hand on her shoulder to get her to lay back down, "In the mean time you get some more rest. Caroline and Elena should be up in a sec. They're making you some soup."

"I'm not hungry," she said, her stomach revolting at the very idea of food.

"You've been asleep for almost two days. You need to eat."

"What? That's not possible."

"You know what happens when you drain your magic," he looked down at her, still frowning, "Just lay down, Bonnie, and let us take care of you. We owe you that at the very least."

She was sure there was an apology in there somewhere and for that reason she relaxed back onto the bed and wiped at her watery eyes. He nodded his head once, giving her a half smirk before leaving the room.

It took her nearly all that evening to convince them to let her go home. Both Elena and Caroline insisted on going with her, driving her to her dad's house where she packed up a bag before heading to her Grams'. She didn't know why she wanted to be there of all places. It just felt safe. Safer then any other place in Mystic Falls at the moment.

They curled up together in her old bed just like they did as kids and she tried to explain what happened to her that night. She tried to impress on them the fear that pumped like ice through her veins. How afraid she'd been and still was. Eventually they all fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the past few days. But she woke up not soon after, panting and sweating from the nightmare she'd had. It had been full of black smoke and glowing, white eyes.

That had been a week ago. She hadn't stepped foot outside since then.

She roamed around the house, checking the locks on the doors and windows. Pouring through Sheila's library trying find anything that would explain what she saw that night. And why it wanted her.

Caroline made attempts to get her out but Bonnie had made it quite clear she wasn't going anywhere. Not as long as that thing was out there. She could still feel it sometimes, hovering around the property like a caged predator. But something about her Grams' house kept it from getting too close and as long as it couldn't get in she wasn't leaving.

She was still having nightmares every time she closed her eyes though. So she avoided sleeping as much as she could and it was starting to take it's toll. There were bags under her eyes and her skin was starting to gain a slight paler. Every time Elena came over she'd press her lips into a thin line at her appearance. And at times she could hear her and Caroline talking in hushed tones while she was in another room.

But no one was saying anything to her.

She wished they would stop tip-toeing around her and just say what they thought. Because she knew she was unraveling, the constant strain of fear and worry leaving her jumpy and anxious. But that didn't mean that had to treat her like she was broken.

She was far from that. And scared to death or not, she had every intention of finding what that thing was and killing it.

 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  


It was a good night for whiskey.

Hell, it was a good year for whiskey.

Dean slouched down in the high-back barstool, fingers playing with the empty shot glass which a few seconds ago contained the bourbon that was currently burning its way to his stomach. He was contemplating pulling a Thorogood and ordering a scotch to go with a beer that was sweating its way through a cheap paper coaster. Getting drunk had an appeal, but even he could acknowledge he'd been teetering the line between functional to full blown alcoholic for quite some time now. And though a pickled liver was the last of his worries at the moment, he couldn't stand to see that disappointed look on his brother's face if he came stumbling back into their motel room like the last time.

Sam was… He didn't exactly know how to describe him. Determined? Desperate? Full of piss and vinegar at him and the whole world because in about three months he was taking a one way trip down into the pit?

He was running himself to the point of exhaustion to find a way to get him out of the deal. Dean had stopped counting the miles they put on the Impala as they crisscrossed the country, chasing one hopeless solution after another, the Feds biting at their heels the whole way.

He'd resigned himself to his fate awhile ago but if pretending to hope kept Sam busy enough to not really think about the fact that, unless a miracle happened, he _was_ going to die, then he would let him have his fantasy. Though it was becoming increasingly hard to keep the abject fear off his face whenever they settled down long enough to think.

Beer and spirits helped, muddled things in his brain enough that he could push everything aside and focus on the now and how and do their job. But the countdown was continuously rolling and sometimes, when the night was still and too damn quiet, he swore he could hear it ticking away in his head second by second.

He raised his hand to signal the bartender for a refill when a pale, slim wrist appeared on the counter to his right and the smell of sage and sulfur assaulted his senses.

"What do you want?" he asked with a frown.

She cut her eyes at him, pushing her stick straight blonde hair over her shoulder. "A drink."

"And out of all the bars in this shitty town you had to pick this one?" He snorted and shook his head, picking up his beer to chase the taste of the shot out of his mouth.

She turned to face him and he made a point to ignore her, picking at the label on the beer bottle. He wasn't in the mood for a word battle and seeing her didn't help him ignore the fact that could be him in the near future. Wearing some poor sap and vacationing up top to terrorize the natives.

"Okay, so maybe I sought you out. With a face like yours, can you blame a girl?" She grinned and reached over to pinch his cheek.

Dean slapped her hand away. "Damn it Ruby! Touch me again and I'll shove this bottle so far down your throat you'll-"

He was cut off by the bartender's approach. "What can I get you, pretty lady?"

Ruby didn't bother to turn her gaze from him as she put in her request. "Whiskey fizz."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. You want another go at that Maker's Mark?"

Dean looked at him, pushing the shot glass his way. "Definitely." Chancing a quick look at Ruby he went on, "And make it a double."

She chuckled, sliding her butt into the stool next to him as the bartender walked away to fill their orders. "Does Sammy know you're sitting here getting shit faced?"

"You don't get to call him that," he snapped at her.

"I'll take that as a no, then"

Dean took another long drag from his beer, exhaling deeply after he swallowed. He didn't know what it was about her that got his feathers all ruffled, but he could count on one hand the few interactions they had where she didn't manage to piss him off.

Narrowing his eyes, he finally gave her his full attention. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"A drink," she said again before tilting her head a little. "And to talk."

"What's there to talk about? Unless you've found a way to keep me from going to hell, I have nothing to say to you."

"That's the thing, Dean. I may have."

" _What_?"

The bartender came back then, placing a half full tumbler before him and a strange, frothy yellow drink before Ruby.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"We're good," Dean said a little forcefully, his eyes never leaving Ruby, who was still wearing that cat that ate the canary smile he absolutely detested.

"Alright," the bartender said hesitantly, obviously sensing the tension between them that he didn't want to be in the middle of, "Just holler if you need me."

When he walked away Dean leaned in closer to her. "You wanted to talk, so do it."

She took her time, picking up her drink and taking a sip. He set his jaw as her eyes closed and she shuddered in comical ecstasy.

"This is good."

"Ruby-"

"Mmm," she opened her eyes and shoved the glass in his face, "You should try it. It's like a grown up milkshake."

"I'm one second away from exorcising your demon ass."

"All work and no play," she huffed and put the glass drink. "Fine. I know who holds the contract to your soul."

His brows rose at that and he sat back a little, his heart suddenly racing. If they could manage to kill the demon who practically owned him, any deal he made would be null and void. But this was Ruby giving him the information and he was skeptical.

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' in that statement?"

"She's powerful, Dean," Ruby said. "Some say she's the first. The original."

"The original what?"

"Everything," she shrugged, "First wife of Adam. Her defiance got her booted out _that_ country club pretty quick. Story goes that she kept old Luci company after her fall from grace and he gifted her with eternal life."

A spark of recognition rang in his head. "Wait. Are you telling me the freaking mother of all demons holds to the deed to my soul?"

"Yup," she replied, popping the 'p'. "You want to live, you've got to ghost Lilith."

He grabbed his bourbon and took a huge gulp. There was no way they could pull that off. It took them over 20 years and the colt to kill Yellow Eyes, costing them countless lives in the process. They didn't even have the luxury of the gun now, only Ruby's knife and he was damn sure she wasn't going to hand it over. And there was no guarantee either one would work on the demon of all demons.

"Fuck!"

"My thoughts exactly," Ruby said, "I would tell you how useless it would be to try to end her but you're a Winchester. I'd have better luck squeezing water from a rock. But I can tell you where she is. "

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, "Where?"

"Virginia. In and quaint Antebellum town called Mystic Falls. She has her eyes set on a pretty little witch there.

He ran over the visual map in his head, calculating the miles it would take to drive there. They were currently in North Carolina, about and hour outside of Durham. Virginia was just a stone's throw away but they would need time to gather weapons, back-up and enough time to recon the town, Lilith, and the witch before they could put any plan into motion.

Then the word witch registered in his mind and he sneered.

"What the hell does she want with one of those demon worshiping freaks?"

"There you go again," she rolled her eyes, "Everything is so black and white with you."

"What?" he asked, getting defensive, "Nothing good has ever come from that crap. That's how you ended where you are to begin with."

"You would think after all this time you'd realize not everything supernatural is synonymous with evil. I had to sell my soul to get my powers, but some people are lucky enough to be born with them."

"She just so happened to be gifted with her mojo, huh? No deals, no nothing like that?" He took another sip of his beer. "Well sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not buying it. Especially with something like Lilith sniffing after her."

"Believe it or not, but Lilith _is_ there and she's distracted. Now would be the best time to strike. So why don't we both finish up here and go find your brother so we can strategize a way to save your ass from the pit."

Dean couldn't argue with her logic. He still didn't trust her, but they'd had very little to go on before this piece of information. Ruby had been helpful in the past and they could still use her knowledge and blade, even if every fiber in his body rebelled at the simple idea of her sticking around.

He finished of his bourbon and watched as she picked up her own drink and sucked heartily through the straw.

"What is that?"

"A cocktail," she looked down at it, "Whiskey, simple syrup, lemon juice and soda water. A real mixologist would have thrown a raw egg in to make it authentic, but you can't expect perfection from a small town bartender like him."

"Gross," Dean shook his head and went to finish his beer.

She shrugged, "It's good. Besides, they were all the rage in the '30s, so I'm sure there's still a few geriatrics who would disagree with you."

"Dude, you are _old_."

Ruby just raised her glass and smiled.

* * *

  
Saturday dawned clear and crisp in Mystic Falls. Spring was technically there, but winter still had a determined grasp over the town, only losing it's grip once the sun was fully up and had burned through the cool air.

The windows were open, airing out bad energy the and smell of blood that always managed to permeate the residence with an early morning breeze. Outside the sounds of the day waking up could be heard over the gentle tinkle of a wind chime his sister had put up. Klaus paid little mind to it, focused more on packing up his room, furious because despite all his planning, scheming and manipulating things still hadn't worked out they way he wanted.

Finn was dead.

That fact sat heavily somewhere deep inside his gut where it festered and burned. He hadn't particularly liked his elder brother, and had been quickly reminded of why he'd kept him daggered for so many centuries when Finn so readily aligned himself with their mother. He was too self loathing and hung up on morality that it made him exasperating to be around. But it didn't mean he wanted him dead. No… he just wanted him out of the way. Despite the vindictiveness and dysfunctionality of the Mikaelson siblings, he'd never actively wanted any of them gone permanently. He'd gone through great lengths over the years, burned many bridges and caused many a massacre to insure that it didn't happened.

But of course that pesky Petrova doppelgänger had to go and throw another wrench in his plans.

He clinched his jaw as he placed a handful of sepia and coal colored Conté sticks into an old cigar box before tossing it into an open chest. Elena Gilbert was certainly becoming more trouble then she might be worth. He had every intention of leaving Mystic Falls before his mother cooked up another way to end his undead life for good, but he knew leaving her in the Salvatore's not so capable care was out of the question.

It was a problem he'd been mulling over as he packed up his art supplies. When it came down to it she was nothing but a sentient blood bag to him and he had absolutely no desire to drag her around the world while playing hide-n-seek with Esther. There were ways to get around that though, and he was running through his options mentally when the breeze coming through the window grew a little stronger and he suddenly felt another presence in the room with him.

"I summoned you days ago," Klaus greeted as he gestured towards the sigil, candles, and bowls of herbs and blood still sitting where he'd left them on the hardwood floor.

"Been busy," the visitor answered, "That biblical pain in my jacksy has been running us flunkies around something awful. It appears all the seeds she's planted have started to root, so I had to put in some overtime to keep her appeased."

Klaus made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat as he picked up a palette, eyeing the still drying oil paint that sat in globs and smears over the wooden surface, before tossing it into a growing pile of trash. Behind him the sound of expensive shoes echoed on the floor as they meandered around the room, pausing every few feet to stare at what he presumed where the portraits of Caroline he hadn't bothered to take off the walls yet.

"I see your talent for disturbing hasn't faded over the years."

Klaus smirked a little, flipping through a pile of newsprint sketches before tossing them aside, "Indeed."

"But I do see your preferences have. Last time I remember you being this fascinated with a face you had a fondness for gingers. Rita Hayworth in particular, if I recall correctly."

Klaus paused for a moment when he heard a sheet of paper being un-tacked from the wall.

"It's a shame, really, how much of herself dear Rita had to change in order to become a star," his visitor went on, "But this new one here, I bet she's _all_ natural. Looks a bit insecure, though. Most of the pretty ones are. I find that lack of confidence makes it easier for me to sell the deal. All I have to do is promise the fame and adoration they so desire and they're practically tripping over themselves for a kiss. Not Rita, though. Believe me, I tried. She was a good Catholic girl till the very end, even as her brain turned to Swiss cheese. Now Marilyn on the other hand-"

"Crowley," Klaus cut him off, turning around to frown at him. If he let him, he would go for hours.

"Yes dear?" he responded, still looking over the drawing in his hand.

"I called you here to thank you, not to reminisce on your golden Hollywood years," he said as leaned back on the table behind him, crossing one ankle over the other and his arms across his chest.

Crowley looked up at him with a sardonic smile, "I take it I've told you that tale before?"

Klaus fought hard not to roll his eyes, "I was there for most of it."

"Right," he nodded as he tossed the heavy paper carelessly behind him before unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting down on an nearby crate, "Let's get on to this business of your gratitude then."

"The spell you recommended worked," Klaus placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head mockingly, "On behalf of my brothers and sister, you have our deepest and most sincerest appreciation."

"Always glad to help out an old friend," Crowley said, his voice just as derisive, "I hope that means you've kept your end of the bargain?"

"The Bennett witch is safe," he replied, and this time he did roll his eyes before returning to cleaning off the table. He couldn't understand Crowley's concern over her well being. The only extra-ordinary and useful thing about her was her magic, though he begrudgingly respected that enough. After all she did come uncomfortably close to killing him. It was unfortunate that Elena had her under her thumb like she had just about everyone else in their godforsaken town. Bonnie Bennett could be so much more if she'd just learn to be a little selfish.

"From what I can gather she's a little traumatized over recent events," he went on, "But still in one piece."

The words had barely left his mouth before he found himself shoved painfully into the wall by an energy he couldn't see, his feet hanging several inches above the floorboards. Crowley was still seated but he was wearing a look that Klaus had seen many times in a distant past, one that flirted between annoyance and a deep-seated urge to maim. That invisible force pressed harder on his chest and throat, and though he didn't need to breathe it still hurt like hell. A little more pressure and things would start breaking. Sternum. Ribs. Trachea. They were all a nuisance to mend back together.

Incisors growing and eyes gleaming gold, he snarled "Is there a reason for the hostility?"

"Recent events?" Crowley repeated as he narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice deceptively calm. "Please don't tell me you let that temper of yours got the better of you. What did you do to my little dove?"

"Exactly what I set out to do; have her perform the spell. No harm came to her," Klaus growled out, "Not by my hands, at least."

"Then by whose?"

"You know exactly who," he grinned, "Word of advice, whatever timetable you're operating on, I suggest you hasten it. Because you are losing this game."

Crowley tilted his head slightly and Klaus found himself able to stand on his own feet again. He stumbled a little before straightening up, pulling at the collar of his Henley shirt.

"She's been here," Crowley deadpanned.

Klaus cracked his neck, feeling his features return to normal, "On and off for the past week. But don't worry, Bonnie's holed herself up in the late Bennett's residence. It's the securest place for her to be and I've had eyes on her the whole time."

Crowley seemed to perk up at that information. "She always was resourceful, that Sheila. It's a shame she's no longer with us."

"Forgive me if I don't share your sentiments." Klaus said. One Bennett witch was one too many in his opinion.

Crowley shrugged, nonplussed, "I'm sure whatever wards Shelia put up in her house could keep out a legion, but Bonnie can't stay there forever. She'll need to leave soon or this whole town will become another casualty in a very old war."

Klaus frowned, "You aren't suggesting I take her from here, are you?"

"Not exactly," Crowley shook his head, "You have a mouth full as it is with _your_ mother, you don't need mine added to the mix. A guard will be sufficient enough. Someone that can be trusted. I'm sure you have enough of your undead puppies running around to make that happen."

"I may have someone in mind," Klaus said," But I doubt any amount of coercion will get her to leave that house, let alone Mystic Falls. She can be incredibly… stubborn."

"And I can be incredibly imaginative." Crowley stood and fastened the buttons of his jacket. "Let me worry about giving her a nudge in the right direction. You just keep her safe."

He crossed the room and held out his hand and Klaus took it for a brief shake.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you," Crowley said, stepping back, "I'll be in touch, but if anything turns sour you have my number."

"Trust me, if the bottom falls out in whatever you're conspiring, I won't be there to go down with it," Klaus said with a shrug, "Preservation. I'm sure you understand."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you," Crowley chuckled, sticking a hand in his pocket. "Oh, before I forget, make sure she gets this. It probably won't be needed, but one can never be too cautious."

He tossed something his way and Klaus caught it midair. It was a square jewelry box and when he opened it he found a ring cushioned in the middle. The silver was perfectly polished, catching the morning light as he admired the intricate detail of flames interwoven through a pentagram. It had been years since he'd seen a protection charm such as that one, and he glanced up to ask Crowley about it only to realize he was gone.

Shaking his head slightly, he pulled the ring out and slipped it on his pinky finger before tossing the box aside. There was an irony here that he was just beginning to see. For so long the supernatural seemed to be drawn to Mystic Falls, and recently to Elena specifically. Himself included. But now beings older and infinitely stronger where converging for a girl that had spent most of her life being passed over and ignored until something was needed from her. For a fleeting moment he almost wished to be there when Bonnie realized whatever melodrama she thought her life was now would be nothing compared to the literal hell that was gunning for her.

Pushing the thought aside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number from memory. It rang a few times before a slightly exhausted, yet obviously annoyed voice answered.

"Hello pet," Klaus said with a wry smile playing on his lips, "You've been off the leash long enough, I think. It's time you return home. I have something I need you to do."

* * *

"Elena and Stefan are at the door."

Bonnie paused from pushing her spoon around in a bowl of congealing oatmeal to see Caroline standing in the kitchen doorway. She had her thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her skinny jeans, her feet covered in a fashionable pair of ridding boots. Bonnie frowned at them in recognition.

"Aren't those mine?"

Caroline looked down, twisting her heel out to the side to admire the brown leather encasing her leg. "Yeah, found 'em in your closet. I got mud on mine last night when I went hunting. You don't mind, do you? I remember you saying they were too loose on your calf's."

"Keep them," Bonnie said as stood up from the breakfast bar and picked up the bowl, moving to the sink and tossing it in to be cleaned later, "They look cute on you."

Caroline beamed at her, "Thanks Bon. Now about Stefan-"

"Ugg," Bonnie groaned, "I really don't want to see him right now. Or ever."

"I know he's not exactly your favorite person at the moment," Caroline said, raising her hands up in a placating manner, "But he says he might have some information to help with this whole creepy, poltergeist kid thing. And let's face it, the only thing we've gained from your Grams' library is an addiction to antihistamines."

They had been spending an awful amount of time sneezing over dusty tomes and squinting at fading Latin to get absolutely nowhere. She had yet to find her Grams' journals and was beginning to wonder if someone had made off with them. Sheila could always be found scribbling in various leather bound books. Bonnie remembered fondly the times as a kid where she would watch her for hours as she wrote down her thoughts with an honesty-to-god fountain pin and a glass of Sovereign Blanc always within reach. She'd swept through the whole house looking for them, stopping sort of pulling up floorboards in her search. Like with everything else, she'd turned up nothing. But she had a feeling that answers would be in those journals, if she could only find them.

"Alright," she said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair, catching more tangles then she was used to. It bothered her that she couldn't remember the last time she'd brushed or combed through it.

She shuffled out of the kitchen in her slippers, Caroline following close beside her as they approached the front door. She opened it to see Elena talking softly to Stefan and she stopped mid-sentence when she saw them standing there.

"Hey Bonnie," she said with a hesitant smile, looking at her still clad in pajamas, "I hope it's not too early."

Bonnie almost snorted out a laugh. It was going on noon, but she didn't particularly see the need of changing into street clothes when she didn't plan on going anywhere.

"No, Lena, it's fine."

She cut her eyes at Stefan who gave a nod in greeting. She almost told him to screw off because despite everything that was going on she still wasn't over the whole coin toss mess. He hadn't expressed any kind of remorse or even attempted an apology for what he'd been prepared to do. The fact that he was willing to kill her hurt in a way that she wasn't ready to examine. Despite everything in her nature she'd finally gotten to a point where she could kind of trust him. To call him a friend. And he went and crapped over it all by trying to take away her agency.

Yes, she was willing to die for Elena. But it was always _her_ choice. He took that away from her that night. And his brother took that away from her mother. It was something she wasn't sure she'd be able to let go anytime soon.

She took a deep breath, letting it out quickly and Stefan must have seen something in her look because he didn't bother to ask for an invitation inside. He simply slid a backpack hanging on his shoulder off and sat down cross-legged on the porch floor, pulling several books out and opening them up to pre-marked pages.

Bonnie looked at Elena with questioning eyes, "What's all this?"

"Just hear him out, okay?" she said, pushing her hair behind her ears, "I really think it might help."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, looking down at the books Stefan had spread out before her, noting the aged yellow pages. Some of the illustrations looked familiar and she frowned a little before kneeling down to get a closer look.

"Hey, I've seen these," Caroline exclaimed from beside her, "They're carved all over the house."

She stepped out and picked up one of the books, "What are they?"

Stefan cleared his throat before answering, locking eyes with Bonnie, "They're protection symbols."

Bonnie glanced at the book in Caroline's hands before turning back to him. "Protection symbols for what?"

"You haven't been practicing any dark magic, have you?"

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Of course not. With all that's been going on the last thing I would do is to open myself up to kind of thing."

He nodded his head as if he was expecting that answer. "There's a lot I don't understand about any of this, but over the years I've learned that anything could be possible. My existence is proof of that. And if vampires, werewolves, ghosts and witches walk among us, then it stands to reason that other supernatural beings do too."

"What are you getting at, Stefan," Bonnie asked, not liking the direction their conversation was turning and how he had yet to answer her question.

"You said the little girl's eyes changed. Nothing else about her features, just her eyes, right?"

Bonnie nodded and he sighed heavily.

"There's only one other thing that I know of that can do that," he said, "And from what Elena has told me, the fact that you can still feel it coming around means that it wants you, Bonnie. For whatever reason, it's set its eyes on you and wont be going anywhere until it gets what it wants."

"Oh my god," Caroline said, exasperated, "Can you cut out the cryptic dramatics and just get to the point already? You know, before we start collecting our Social Security checks? What is it, and why does it want her?"

His furrowed his brows in a way that always reminded Bonnie of a parent getting ready to reprimand an unruly child. He pursed his lips for a second before letting out another weary sigh.

"I think the girl may have been possessed."

"You mean by a spirit," Bonnie asked, "Or is it something like what Klaus did with Alaric?"

"No, nothing like that," Elena spoke up for him, "It's something we haven't seen before. Something worse."

The solemn look on their faces were really starting to concern her, making the few bites of oatmeal she was able to eat earlier start to curdle in her stomach, "Well what the hell is it?"

"A demon, Bonnie," Stefan said finally, "I'm pretty sure it's a demon."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bonnie felt like laughing.

She clenched her fists together, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to feel sharp pain because she knew if she let that bubble of giggles out she might not be able to stop. She'd be hysterical with it and it would do nothing to convince her friends that she hadn't cracked up.

_Demons_.

That word resonated in her head as she held Stefan's steady gaze. She felt Caroline shift in the doorway behind her. Out the corner of her eye she saw Elena open her mouth as if to say something, probably some words of comfort, but close it just as abruptly. Beyond the front porch the sky was void of clouds, a perfect balance between summer and autumn where the air seemed cleaner and sharper. Across the street a neighbor was using an electric trimmer on his hedges. Down the block a group of kids could be heard laughing as they ran from yard to yard. It all felt so mockingly _normal._ While her life was quickly turning to shit around her the world outside just kept rolling on.

The laughter dried up as suddenly as it appeared, replaced by a bitterness and plan old envy at all the naïve people around them. She wished she could be like them, where the only thing supernatural in her life was watching re-runs of _X-Files_ and trying not to roll her eyes at her Grams' wine induced ramblings. It was childish and ultimately useless, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't jealous. There was safety in their ordinary lives. While she wouldn't trade her knowledge of what was lurking in the shadows for anything, she knew their ignorance more times then not kept them out of harms way.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, holding it a few seconds before letting out a sigh that sounded world-weary even to her ears. Elena was looking at her expectedly and Bonnie felt a wave of empathy towards her. She was usually the epicenter of all things crazy in their world for the past year and she honestly didn't know how she held it together. One week and she was beyond ready to pass the mantle back to her.

Then again, she didn't have two vampire's hell bent on proving how much they loved her and were willing to protect her by any means necessary… and at the expense of anyone who got in their way.

Shaking the thought away she stood, one of the books Stefan brought still in her hands. "I haven't had nearly enough coffee for this."

Caroline made an agreeing noise behind her, "I'll go put another pot on."

Bonnie thanked her over her shoulder before turning back to the two left on the porch. "You might as well come in, Stefan. I have a feeling this pow-wow is gonna be a long one."

He stood after collecting the books off the worn porch, nodding his head and giving her a quiet thank you. Even still she blocked his path after Elena had entered for a few seconds, giving him a stare that clearly told him not to make her regret the invite inside.

They ended up in the living room. Caroline played host, handing out steaming mugs as they settled down around the coffee table, the books spread open on it's wooden surface. As Bonnie folded her legs under her while getting comfortable on a floor pillow she caught a whiff of alcohol from her mug.

"Caro," she protested with a frown.

"What? I figured you could use a little Irish pick-me-up," she said with a shrug before plopping down on a nearby loveseat, crossing her stretched out legs at the ankle. "You can thank me later, once you realize you probably need it."

Bonnie wasn't sure she could argue with that. Still, she pushed the spiked coffee to the side and looked at Stefan wearily. "So, you say I have a demon problem?"

"It's what I suspect." He leaned forward on the couch so that his elbows rested on his knees, his mug clutched tightly in his hands. "You have to understand that I've never actually met a demon before, that I know of. They have no real reason to deal with vampires since we already have one foot in the grave, so to speak. They can't get a hold on the thing they really care about with us. But humans still have souls. And they are valuable.

"It wasn't something I remembered until recently. Something Klaus _made_ me forget. He's always kept…questionable company, and given his age and his hunt to break the Sun and Moon curse he's met his share of supernatural beings. Most of them have been witches who don't share your benevolent way of practicing. They use magic for gain, which goes against the natural order of everything it stands for."

He gave her a pointed look. "You know what happens to a witch who does that. There are consequences. Always. But the witches Klaus has a tendency to gravitate towards use magic as if they have nothing to lose. These type of witches are a dime-a-dozen. I've met hundreds over the years and very few have the family history that yours does, with magic that's passed on from generation to generation. The kind that's strictly for the purpose of keeping the natural balance. The ones that don't have opened themselves up to something dangerous. Sold a pivotal part of themselves for a power they weren't meant to have and abuse.

"The only way for them to do this is to summon a demon. In in exchange for their soul they can abuse the gift you have with no limitation and no fear of repercussion. The spirits can't control them because whatever they tap into is darker then anything they've been a conduit of before."

He took a sip of coffee, licking the excess liquid off his bottom lip before continuing. "I wasn't trying to imply anything earlier when I asked if you'd been tampering with anything dark. But Klaus had just forced you to do the unbinding spell and I thought maybe there was something in it that would have put you on it's radar. Drawn it to you."

"No, nothing like that." She shook her head. "I mean, it was a difficult spell but the only thing demonic about the entire situation was Klaus and his psycho sister's torture room."

"I was hoping that would have explained what happened to you and why you have a demon sniffing after you," he said, frowning. "If it wasn't the spell then it means it sought you out on its own. It wants you for something, Bonnie. And the only thing I can guess is possession."

"Why would it want me?"

"Because you're powerful. Demons need a vessel in order to function, and what better one then the body of a genuine witch?"

There was a moment of silence and Bonnie swallowed heavily. This was way over her head. It was hard enough trying to wrap her mind around the fact that demons apparently existed. But to know that one was after her, for whatever malicious purpose, was enough to make her stomach turn.

"More then likely it scared you the way it did to tear down some mental barriers. It needs you weak and vulnerable in order to possess you. But I don't think it realizes how strong your will is. Being a witch helps. It's the reason you're naturally resistant to compulsion. But I think most of it is just you. You're stronger then you give yourself credit for. Still, from what you told me this demon is older than dirt. That means it's patient and it's going to keep trying, Bonnie. It will wait however long it has to and do whatever it takes to break you."

"What do I do?" she asked him softly.

"We," Elena spoke up, putting heaven emphases on the word, letting her know she wasn't in this alone, "have a few options. I guess your Grams already had this place pretty heavily protected, but it wouldn't hurt to go through and check all the wards. Maybe add a few more just to be extra safe."

"That's what the books are for." Stefan gestured to the table. "There are protection symbols in there. I've got rock salt in the trunk, we can use that to line all the windowsills and main doors. It's a barrier that many supernaturals can't cross."

Caroline wrinkled her nose. "That actual works?"

"Yeah," Bonnie said. "Witches use it all the time. To shield themselves or to contain something. As long as the line isn't broken and depending on how you're using it, nothing can get in or out."

"Well that's great and all, but these are only temporary solutions," Caroline said. "You can't stay here forever, Bon. And there's no guarantee it won't find a way in eventually. There has to be a way get to rid of it for good. Either a way to kill it or, I don't know, go all _The Exorcist_ on it's ass."

"I've exhausted mine and Alaric's book collections and everything I've found has been pretty vague on that subject. It's all about balance. If there's a way to summon and demon there has to be a way to send it back. But they've only mentioned the rituals, they never actually wrote them out." Stefan sighed. "I'm gonna have to talk to Klaus. He has experience with this type of thing."

"No," Elena said emphatically. Obviously this part of the plan was new to her. "No way! Last time you went to him for help he forced you to become something you hate."

"I know," he said, looking as if the prospect of doing it was slightly worse then drinking Drain-O. "I'm out of my league here. We all are. But if anyone knows what to do it's him. He's had a habit of palling around with demons in the past."

"And he also doesn't hand out freebees either. He'll want something in return," she shot back. "And who's to say he isn't responsible for all this anyway? For all we know he sent one of his hell buddies after Bonnie just for a good laugh. We can find someone, anyone else. Even if it means leaving town."

"We don't have _time_ to find someone else. This needs to happen soon before that demon gets wise and does something drastic like burn this house down, protections spells and all, just to get what it wants. Klaus will have answers."

And just as looked they were getting amped up to really start arguing about it Caroline silenced them.

"I'll do it."

Both Bonnie and Elena start to protest but she held up a hand to quiet them. "Look, I'm the better bet. For whatever reason he likes me. I don't think he'd make me do anything extreme for the information."

"Um, hello?" Bonnie shook her head. "He had your boyfriend bite you in order to get into your good graces by saving your life. That sounds pretty extreme to me."

"So he has a twisted way of courting." She shrugged. "I'm not saying I like the idea, but if it means finding a way to help you then I'll take one for the team. I don't think he'll do anything to hurt me. Not again."

She didn't sound so convinced of it herself but Bonnie could see a determined set to her jaw that let her know there'd be no talking her out of it.

"I'll go with you."

"Elena." Stefan turned in his seat to get a better look at her. "I don't think that's a smart idea."

"He needs me. He won't do anything to me."

"You set him up to have his mother kill him and staked his brother." Stefan reminded her gently. "He'd probably drain you and leave you for dead just out of spite."

She deflated, sinking back into the couch cushions with a slight pout. "Fine."

"So it's settled. First we'll work on demon-proofing the house then I'll go have a talk with the Original bastard. And hopefully we can find a way to get you out of this mess," Caroline said, a wide smile gracing her lips. If there was one thing Bonnie always admired about her friend it was her optimism, even when faced with the worst of odds.

She was used to doing things solo. Solving her problems on her own. Grieving on her own. To have them rallying together to help her felt so foreign. She was usually the one with a solution, whether it was a premeditated plan or a hastily executed one. But now she was literally stuck having to rely on them to find answers and probably fix them while she twirled her thumbs, hoping that no one got hurt or killed in the process. She didn't like it, that feeling of helplessness. It rubbed her wrong on a base level and she knew she was going to have a hard time not being proactive about the whole situation.

It was a trust thing. So many people had let her down in life that it was easier to just take matters into her own hands. That way she wouldn't be disappointed. Maybe it made her jaded, but at least that way she would be the sole cause for any hurt she might experience. It was something she knew she'd have to work on getting over eventually, but she certainly hadn't been in a rush to do so.

Now it looked like she didn't have much of a choice.

She looked them over, worrying her bottom lip before letting her shoulders slump with a sigh. "Alright. But before we do anything I'm going to take a shower and get dressed."

She stood just as Stefan did. He pulled his keys out of the front pocket of his jeans.

"Can you help me grab the supplies from my car, Caroline."

"Sure." And they were both out of the room with a blur and rush of air.

Bonnie started to collect the coffee mugs and Elena was quick to help. When they reached the kitchen sink to dump them, Elena shooed her away.

"I'll take care of this, you go get showered and dressed. Oh, and wear something you don't care about getting stained. There's paint involved."

"Thanks," she said, turning on her slipper covered feet just as Elena turned on the faucet. She was halfway across the room when her friend got her attention again by calling her name.

"I know it doesn't sound like much right now, but I promise we're going to figure this out. We always do."

Bonnie forced what she hoped was a confident smile but didn't reply. Instead she shuffled her way up the back staircase to her bedroom. The assurance was made to make her feel better, but it was such a hallow one. When it came to the monsters they dealt with nothing hardly ever went right. And if it did there was always a terrible price to be paid. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be this time.

* * *

Taylor could feel her eyes on him as he packed the meager amount of clothes he brought along into his football gym bag. The motel he'd been staying at was trashy, to say the very least. With it's horrible split-pea colored wallpaper, water stained ceiling and a décor that obviously hadn't been updated since the mid-80's at best, he could say for certain that he wasn't sad to leave it behind.

But it didn't mean he was any eager to return to Mystic Falls. Especially since he was no where close to achieving what he set out to do when he put the town in his rear-view mirror weeks ago.

But the master called, and like the welled trained dog he was he had no choice but to come running.

With a resigned sigh he tossed a pair of socks that he was sure had been white at one point in the bag. The smell of unwashed laundry made him scrunch up his nose in distaste as he stood and headed to the bathroom to collect his toiletries. Hayley was still leaning against the wall by the television, arms crossed as she watched him move around the small room with a scowl on her face.

He'd been putting up a good front at ignoring her, but he knew from experience it'd only be a matter of time before she opened her mouth and say her peace. He didn't want to hear it because it wouldn't change anything. Within the next hour he was going to be back on the road, because despite his best efforts and even her help, he hadn't been able to break the sired bond.

He could still feel the lingering pain from his last try, the joints in his neck and shoulders protesting sharply if he moved faster then they were ready for. The constant, burning strain in what felt like every muscle in his body as they healed from the extensive damage the forced transformations caused. He was pissed that all that self-inflicted agony hadn't gotten him anywhere. That tether of connection was still pulling at the back of his mind. He still felt that blind compulsion to do whatever Klaus asked of him; to please him.

Even his phone call left him in excited in a way that was similar to a child who wanted to gratify their parents. It disgusted him down to his very core but he just _couldn't_ help himself.

Returning to the bed he tossed in his toothbrush, deodorant and razor, a little bummed over the fact that his life had been reduced down to one smelly duffel. Behind him he heard Hayley finally move from her place holding up the wall and his shoulders reflexively tensed.

"It's a girl isn't it?"

Taylor continued back to the bathroom without answering to gather up the half-used complimentary shampoo and an unopened bar of soap. It was probably the one thing that the motel was good for, restocking the tiny bottles whenever he made a call to the front desk. The coffee machine in the lobby was a second close. It certainly wasn't the imported stuff he was used to back home, but it was cheap and didn't taste like grounds and ash. He was learning to appreciate the small things that made his situation a little less miserable.

"It's not like that," he said finally, tossing the bottles in the bag and turning to glance at her. Her face read that she was unimpressed and he sighed before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, it's a girl. Alright? But it's not in the way you're thinking."

"Then enlighten me, because the only reason that I can think of that would make you go back is some vagina in distress that you've have the pleasure of being up close and personal with," she said, raising her eyebrows. "And maybe you hope by swooping in and saving the day you can be reacquainted with it."

Tyler was already exasperated by the conversation and it had barely even started. "Look, she needs my help and there's nothing more to it. Bonnie has never been anything more to me then a friend."

That word felt weird as it rolled off his tongue and he suddenly realized he'd never considered his relationship with her before let alone tried to classify it. He used to chalk it up to small town living. Growing up with the same people you automatically started calling them friend simply because you knew so much about them. But at best you were mostly acquaintances, connected by Southern hospitality and the ever present small community gossip that gave the illusion that you were more familiar with a person then you really were.

That wasn't the deal with Bonnie, though. The truth was he hadn't bothered to get to know her any better because there had always been something about her that unsettled him.

Even before he activated the werewolf curse and learned what she was (and that their town had a long history of being a hotbed for supernatural madness), there was a part of him that always shied away from getting too close to her. He, to this day, couldn't quite put a finger on it. It was something in the way she looked at him at times. Like she could see right past the privileged jock front he projected out to the world and truly know him. There was a connection there he'd always been afraid to explore in the past, but with everything going on now he was a little more willing to see what the hell it was. Because that jolt of powerful awareness he'd always get whenever she was near had to mean something.

Maybe it was a witch thing. They were apparently responsible for werewolves very existence, among other things. Or maybe it was the whole creatures of nature part that made him feel drawn to her at times. He didn't know and it just was another question added to a very long mental list of things he was clueless about. It bothered him, being so ignorant about the secret world he'd found himself thrust unwillingly into.

" _Bonnie_?" Hayley scuffed at her name and if Tyler didn't know any better he'd think she was jealous.

He was used to getting double takes from women. Being well aware of the fact that he was an attractive guy he could willingly admit that he'd used it to his advantage. He even tried it a few time with her, testing the boundaries of their budding friendship with flirty smiles and not-so-subtle innuendo. He didn't know why he did it, exactly. She was a beautiful woman but he wasn't interested in her in that way. Habit, he supposed. In the end it didn't matter because she was utterly indifferent to his teenage charm, treating him more like a little brother that was feeling himself because of ragging hormones then anything else.

"Yeah, Bonnie," he reiterated. "And even if that blood-sucking dick hadn't ordered me to, I'd still go back."

It was the truth. He normally tried to keep out of whatever Elena related drama was unfolding at any given moment. Dating Caroline and being what he was kind of threw him in the mix of things despite his wishes. And Caroline always gave him a play-by-play of what was going down. Sometimes he felt biased because he usually only got her view of what was happening but he finally figured out that, though Caroline could be emotional at times, she had a very good grasp at reading people and situations. One of her biggest complaints was how Elena and her boy toys treated Bonnie, calling her only when they needed her for a magical fix to some problem they, more times then not, created on their own.

Caroline saw it and she absolutely hated how no one even acknowledged the sacrifices her friend made, let alone thanked her.

Even he was guilty of it. He'd benefited, mostly indirectly, from her altruism and still he never went out of his way to see how she was doing, even when he knew she was in a bad way. Being with Caroline opened his eyes to the grand levels of shit she went through just to keep her loved ones safe while at the same time trying to do what was expected of her as a Bennett witch. If playing Kevin Costner to her Whitney Houston for a few days was one way of showing his appreciation, then he'd do it.

Plus, wherever Bonnie was Caroline was sure not to be far behind. It was a crappy thing to think when her best friend was in trouble, but he missed her more then he thought possible. The few late night phone calls and texts they sent each other weren't nearly enough. He wanted to be able to feel her cool skin in his arms and bury his face in her hair that always smelled like wild flowers.

So really, Hayley was sort of right about the whole 'vagina in distress' bit. Well it was more like his dick being in distress. He had to fight a chuckle at the thought.

"I guess short of knocking you out and chaining you up somewhere, there's nothing I can say or do to get you to stay, huh?"

"Nope," he replied as he gave the tiny room a quick once-over to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Not that he had much to leave behind anyway.

He heard her sigh. "Well at least let me come with you. You might need someone to watch your back."

He turned finally to give her his full attention. "It's not safe for you there, Hayley. Klaus probably knows what I've been doing up here, and if he finds out that you've been helping me-"

"Yeah, I get it," she cut him off with a slight eye roll. "I just don't understand why you have to rush back there. What we've been doing must have helped some. The simple fact that you're still here taking the time to argue with me is proof enough that the bond isn't as strong as you said it used to be. We can keep trying. Maybe this is the kind of push you need to server the tie for good. Maybe actively fighting a command is the key. You just can't go throwing that all away for some girl in a place where you said no one gives a damn about you!"

"I just…" Caught in his own lie he stepped closer to place his hands on her upper arms, lowering his head to get a better look at her. "This is something I have to do. Sired bond or not, one of the few friends I have is in trouble and this time I can do something to help. I owe her that."

"Okay," Hayley said after a long moment while reaching up to squeeze his wrists briefly. "You do what you've got to do for your _friend_. But the second it's done, you drag your butt back here. We have work to do."

He nodded. "That's the plan."

She gave him another hard, assessing look before stepping out of his hold and moving towards the door. Tyler watched as she grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair as she went. She turned back to him as she slipped it on.

"You have my number," she said. "If anything changes or you need help, let me know. You might not think you're part of the pack, but we're still here for you. So don't be a stranger."

Before he could say in reply she was gone.

He stood there for a while staring at the closed wooden door. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about being in a pack again, considering the disaster that happened to the last group of wolves that let him into their fold. He was sure that Hayley had some inkling of the truth from the small bits and pieces of his real life he'd been adding to his Florida cover story. She didn't seem to care about his reluctance, though. And from the few other members that he'd been introduced to, he got the impression they didn't much care either.

It would be nice to be belong to a pack again, but he wasn't willing to risk their lives for a bit of camaraderie. Especially if it led Klaus to another group of people being turned and forced to kowtow to him.

"Fuck it," he muttered to himself after dragging his hand across his face. He had other things to worry about at the moment. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before grabbing his keys off the discolored nightstand. Flicking off the lights, he slipped out the door and headed down the cement walkway to the motel's front desk.

He inhaled deeply as he walked, trying to settle the anxious feeling that had been flirting through his veins all day. It had taken a lot of focus to not show it around Hayley because if she'd sensed his unease she probably _would_ have tied him up to keep him from going anywhere.

He tried to convince himself as he checked out that he was just nervous about returning. He left one hell of a mess behind and hadn't lived up to the promise he made of fixing himself. That was part of it. But his instinct was telling him that whatever he was about to walk in to was a lot bigger then the babysitting job Klaus had assigned him to.

It would figure. Things in the Falls were never as easy as they were made out to be.

* * *

" _Hey, it's me. You, ah, you've probably heard from the school by now that I haven't been there all week. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not sick or hurt or anything. I know you don't like talking about… well you know. But something happened and it's kinda dangerous for me to go anywhere. I've been at Grams this whole time and it's safe here. The girls are with me and Stefan, you know Elena's boyfriend, has been helping. So don't freak out, alright? I'm okay._

"I know you said you won't be back until Tuesday but is there any way you could cut your trip short? I'm in a little over my head and I can't find Grams' journals and everything is a mess… I just– I'd feel better if you were home Daddy. So umm, call me back if you're not too busy. If not I guess I'll see you whenever you get back. Bye."

Rudy pulled his cell phone from his ear and pressed 1 to listen to the voicemail over again. He couldn't remember how many times he'd done that, just like he couldn't remember that last time he'd heard his daughter call him Daddy. Bonnie had always been independent, even when she was just a little thing running around with coltish limbs and pigtails. There was no coddling her over skinned knees or childhood nightmares. She kept a flashlight under her pillows to chase the monsters away and her skill with pouring rubbing alcohol and applying band aids was almost surgical. Her favorite words growing up where "Dad, you're not doing it right," while plucking whatever he was fiddling with out of his hands or moving him gently away from whatever kitchen misadventure he was about to blunder himself in to.

Most of the time it was a good thing because it meant she was responsible and he rarely had to worry about her while he was away. As the years passed and she got older (and he in turn spent more time away) she learned how to take care of herself. He had purposely raised her so that she wouldn't always need him because there were no guarantees in his line of work and his next trip out of town might be his last. But his way of parenting also bred a level of resentment that made asking him for help akin to getting a root canal.

She was asking for it now though, in her own round-about way. And he felt like crap warmed over because he was halfway across the country, in clothes that had three days of body funk on them and a stomach that was protesting the fact that it had been surviving on nothing but protein bars and coffee. And he wasn't there to reassure her.

He wasn't going to win any father of year awards anytime soon. Hell, he wasn't even in the running. He knew that but it didn't mean he wasn't doing what he could to keep Bonnie safe. Which is why he was leaning against his Bonneville outside an old paper mill with his phone pressed to his ear, listening to her try to hide the desperation in her voice.

He heard the crunch of feet on gravel behind him and he quickly closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket with one hand while at the same time reaching for the gun wedged in his waistband.

"Hey Uncle Rudy, you ready? We're all set up inside."

He relaxed a little, recognizing the voice and turned. "Yeah, was just checking my messages."

Derek stopped at the hood of the car, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. "Everything alright?"

Rudy sighed and rubbed at his forehead with the heal of his hand, trying to erase the frown lines he knew where there.

"Something happened back home." He cleared his throat. "I need to get on the road after this. Bonnie… she needs me."

Derek tilted his head towards the building behind him. "Then lets get this over with. The less time we have to spend here, the better. Place smells like ass anyway"

Rudy let out a chuckle as he they headed inside. Though the abandoned mill hadn't been in use in over a decade the air still smelt of rotten eggs. It wasn't pleasant but it served it's purpose by being off the beaten path and away from prying eyes. He held the door open for his nephew and let him lead the way through a labyrinth of halls and rooms. Not that he really needed him as a guide to were they were headed. All he had to do was follow the screams.

"He's a stubborn one," his brother, Mitchell, said as soon as they entered a larger room that at one time might have been used for storage. Derek gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before going to join his older sister by a portable water irrigation tank set off to the side. Rudy saddled up next to Mitchell, who was standing with his arms crossed, glowering at the figure that was tied to the chair in front of them.

"We knew this wasn't going to be easy," he said, watching the smoke still raising off the soaked man.

Mitchell uncrossed his arms to rub the back of his neck. "He's all yours. Just don't get too close. Derek and I bolted the chair down, but you know how slippery these bastards can be."

"I'll be alright." He assured him.

Rudy wondered who their captive was before all of this. He was dressed normally enough in a t-shirt and khaki shorts, though somehow in the struggle to get him here he lost one of his Converse sneakers. The hair in need of a cut and slight stubble on his checks screamed aimless post-grad student. It was a shame really, he was still a damn kid in so many ways.

Rudy frowned as he circled around him, checking the trap they'd painted on the concrete ground earlier and watching as he flinched every time water dripped onto him from the outdoor showerhead they'd rigged up earlier.

Completing his inspection, he came to stand in front of him again. "What's your name, son?"

The bowed head came up and Rudy found himself looking into hazel eyes. "I already told them. My name is Brandon. Brandon Hart."

Rudy looked over at Brittany, his niece, who was leaning against the wall by the water tank. She nodded her head once before twisting a lever hooked up to a hose. It took a few seconds for the water to make it's way through the suspended pump, but when the sparse trickles finally turned into a steady stream the screaming began again. He watched dispassionately as the young man cursed and writhed around as much as his tight constraints would allow. He didn't know how much holy water really hurt a demon but judging from how they reacted to it, it must have been like acid raining down on them. The seconds turned to minutes and Rudy kept a close eye on the level of the tank. They started out with fifty gallons worth, which was probably overkill. But at the same time he didn't know how long they would be there interrogating. It was better to be over prepared than to fall short and lose the upper ground.

"That's enough," he said after a while, his ears ringing slightly from howls echoing off the walls. The water cut off as he pulled up a spare chair. He waited a moment for the pain-twisted face to go lax and to see eyes that had gone completely black. Aside from Mitchell tensing slightly behind him, no one was startled by the change.

"Ah, there you are," Rudy said. "Let's try this again. What's your _real_ name?"

"Mal," he said with venom in his voice, even though it had gone horse from yelling, before shaking his wet hair out of his face.

"It's nice to meet you, Mal. I'm-"

"I know who you are. Word was that you'd gone soft, started a little family and retired."

Rudy shrugged. "Yeah, well I had to get back on the hunt. You know how this economy is."

Mal chuckled a little. "What is it that you want? Or is this just a training exercise to get you back on your game?"

"I just want a few questions answered. Truthfully," he replied. "If you do that to my satisfaction then you're free to go."

"Answers, huh?" Mal raised a brow. "And if they aren't to your satisfaction?"

"Well…" Rudy gave Brittany another pointed look and Latin words started rolling off her tongue with an ease that he was slightly envious of. Mal started thrashing around in the chair again.

"Alright! I get your point," he yelled, straining against the chains that held him bound. STOP!"

Rudy nodded and Brittany cut the exorcism off abruptly. He waited for Mal to catch his breath before he started speaking again.

"So, are you going to cooperate? Or should I call this a wash and just have her finish?"

Mal groaned as his head lulled back. "Fine. I'll answer what I can."

"Good." Rudy smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "It seems your bosses downstairs are planning something. Something big. I want to know what it is and how my daughter is involved."


	4. Chapter 3

Caroline shut the door to her car a little bit harder than she intended as she stood outside the Mikaelson mansion, letting slip the tension she was trying hard not to reveal.    
  
Eyebrows furrowed, she headed across the cobblestone driveway with a determined stride, flip-flops slapping against her the bottom of her feet the whole way. The house was deceptively beautiful in its construction, standing out in a place where Colonial Revival style architecture, with pitched roofs and dormers to combat the notorious summer humidity, were the norm. It didn’t fit with the general scheme of the neighborhood, or the town for that matter. Caroline wondered what planning committee member was compelled to get approval for the makeover. Still, the end result was almost breathtaking, seamlessly blending Roman/Greco with modern convenience. It probably raised the property taxes of the surrounding houses to high hell but at least everyone got something nice to look at.  
  
It was too bad it was a place of death, filled with monsters who were just as alluringly attractive on the outside but were full of toxic poison on the inside and all too willing to bite.  
  
She could think of a million places she would rather be at the moment, and remembering what happened to Bonnie and even Damon the last time they stepped foot on the property made her a little jittery with nerves.  
  
“Suck it up,” she muttered to herself as she made her way up to the front door. “You‘re doing this for Bonnie.”  
  
She rang the bell and stepped back from the door, expecting one of Klaus’ hybrids or the man himself to answer.  
  
She got another Original instead.  
  
“Oh, it’s just you.” Rebekah said with disinterest in her voice as she hovered with one hand still holding the door. She gave Caroline a once over, blues eyes raking her from head to toe and back again and the passive look on her face turned into an outright scorn.  
  
“What on earth are you wearing?”  
  
Caroline had a reputation for always being immaculately dressed, never stepping out of her house without looking put together, even if it was just for a milk run. It was almost a Commandment to her, sandwiched between Thou Shall Moisturize Twice a Day and Diamonds Are a Girl‘s Best Friend, But So Is Liquid Liner and Mascara. She didn’t have to worry about the moisturizing bit anymore, being undead and all. But she still lived by the other two and she was aware that she was currently breaking those rules.  
  
Bonnie had loaned her an old cheer camp t-shirt and a pair of cutoff shorts (that had seen so many washes the frayed edges had turned white) to paint in and she hadn’t bothered to change when she left on her mission. Her normally carefully styled hair was pulled back in a sloppy bun and her face was makeup free. Elena ‘accidentally’ managed to swipe her loaded brush across the bridge of Caroline’s nose and left cheek, causing a small tussle that ended up with more paint on both their faces and clothes. There was a mess to clean, up of course, and she had to scrub her face clean, leaving her skin bare of even the tiniest bit of foundation. But it had gotten a laugh out of Bonnie and that made any grumbling on her end half-assed because getting her to crack something as small as a smile the past week had been a miracle.  
  
Besides, she wasn’t tying to impress any of the Mikaelsons. If anything she hoped seeing her in her natural state would throw Klaus off her trail and out of her life for good. Not that she looked busted, or anything. It was just that she could probably count on one hand the amount of people who’d seen her without any kind of makeup on.  
  
“Look, Joan Rivers, I didn’t come here to discuss my wardrobe,” Caroline said with an impatient huff. “I need to speak to Klaus.”    
  
“I’m sorry, didn’t you see the sign out front?” Rebekah gave her a saccharine yet mocking smile. “We have a strict no soliciting policy. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the property now or I’ll be forced to call the authorities.”  
  
Before Caroline could respond the door was slammed shut in her face. To add insult to injury, she heard the distinctive sound of the deadbolt being turned and locked.  
  
She stood there, jaw dropped in disbelief for a moment before anger finally surfaced and boiled over. Stepping back up she started ringing the bell continuously with one hand while banging harshly on the door with the other.  
  
It only took a few seconds before the it was wrenched open again to reveal an annoyed Klaus on the other side of the threshold.  
  
“Really, Caroline? I’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re barely even legal, but that doesn’t mean you have regress to kindergarten theatrics when you want attention.”  
  
Caroline narrowed her eyes. “Tell that to your sister. She’s the one who‘s only ambition in the past god knows how many centuries is to be prom queen. It‘s kinda pitiful when you think about.”  
  
“I heard that!” Rebekah yelled from somewhere upstairs.  
  
Rolling her eyes, she breezed by him into the parlor before turning towards him. “We need to talk.”  
  
Klaus shut the door before gazing over her form with an questioning look. “You look-”  
  
“Seriously?” She held up a hand to stop him. “Just don’t. What I’m wearing is so not what’s important right now.”  
  
“I was going to say refreshing normal, but have it your way.” He shrugged. “You don’t mind having this tête-à-tête in the kitchen, do you? You caught me in the middle of warming up a snack.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
She gestured for him to lead the way before following behind him, noting the boxes stacked everywhere and just how bare the house looked. Even the kitchen, once they reached it, was sparse of the everyday appliances that vampires kept around just to appear normal.    
  
She tossed her purse onto the marble top of a kitchen bar and leaned against it. “You’re moving.”  
  
He took it as the statement it was, making his way to a built-in microwave and pulling out three blood bags.  
  
“You and your little band of solders have made it clear that I’ve over stayed my welcome. So I think it‘s best if I move on before one of my other siblings ends up with a white oak stake in their heart.”  
  
She looked down, fiddling with the handle of her bag. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was sorry, because she _did_ feel bad about it. She didn’t like killing and though she wasn’t directly responsible for it, she’d been aware of the plan. But Finn had been the safer option, already willing to sacrifice himself to put an end to his family’s madness. The way they went about it still sat wrong with her and finding out that his entire line, probably thousands, died with him was something she’d decided not to process yet. Once she’d figured out Bonnie’s situation she’d go there. She’d mourn the fact that so many vampires (regardless if they were good or not) didn’t deserve go out that way, clueless and probably so frightened. And she’d finally stop to think about how close she came to being one of them. If it hadn’t been for Klaus forcing Bonnie to unbind them…  
  
She shook her head a little, clearing the thought away. There was no sense in dwelling on what could have happened. She was alive, somewhat. And he wasn’t throwing it in her face that he’d, by proxy, saved her life. Again.  
  
Though, as she watched him use a pair of scissors to cut off the corner of a blood bag and pour it into a crystal tumbler, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was cooking up a way to use it as leverage.     
  
“Would you like a glass?” He turned from what he was doing to look at her, holding up the half empty bag and giving it a little shake, “There’s plenty more where this came from.”  
  
“Thanks, but no.”  
  
She was hungry though. It wasn’t the stomach pains she was used to when she was human. Hunger for her now was different, more of a deep skin crawling and gum itching kind of thing. She’d never been big on drugs, the most she’d gotten into was taking a hit or two off someone’s weed at a party. Even before she was turned, alcohol had always been her poison of choice, along with fried foods and any type of yeast bread. But if asked, she’d always say vampire hungry was like being strung out. It was an angry, down to your nerve endings type of craving. And let it grow long enough, eventually it would feel like every individual cell in your body was dieing.    
  
She couldn’t even begin to imagine how the vamps in the tomb had felt for all those years. And she prayed she never had to know by personal experience. Still, hungry or not, she certainly wasn’t bad off enough to take what he was offering. She’d stick to blood of the furry variety. If she was lucky Stefan would still be at Sheila’s house and wouldn’t mind going for a run in the woods with her.  
  
Klaus took a healthy swig from his glass, licking the excess blood from his bottom lip as he lowered it. “Still on the Cullen diet, I see.”  
  
She narrowed her eyes and decided to just get to the reason why she was there, because despite all his charm Klaus’ default setting would always be annoying.  
  
“What do you know about exorcising a demon?”  
  
His brows rose. “Quite a bit, actually. There is a ritual, of sorts, that can be done to purge a demon from it’s host.”  
  
She didn’t want to jump the gun, but she couldn’t help the jolt of elation that ran through her body at hearing his words.  
  
“Do you know it?” She starting worrying the straps of her bag again. “I mean, do you know enough about it to teach it to someone?”  
  
“These are dangerous inquiries, Caroline.” He frowned. “What exactly happened to put them on your mind?”  
  
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering how much she should tell him. Bonnie was an incredibly private person, sometimes to the point where Caroline just wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake out that ‘I can save the world by my damn self‘ mentality of hers. She felt wrong standing in their enemy’s kitchen ready to beg for his help to save the same girl he’d wrecked mental havoc on a week ago. But Bonnie had reluctantly agreed to let her at least try, which was a testament to how desperate she was. She’d been putting up a good front the past few days but Caroline could see the cracks in her tough veneer spreading and multiplying, exposing the scared and overburdened teenager beneath that she tried so hard to keep hidden.      
  
“Well,” she said, letting out a huff of air. “After showing her such great hospitality by forcing her to do your bidding, Bonnie was attacked by something on her way home. The way she described it, what it did… what it said, we figured it must be a demon.”  
  
“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?” he asked.  
  
“Stefan did, actually.”  
  
“Ah, Chicago.” He chuckled a little. “I mustn’t forget in the future that compelling someone to remember everything really does mean _everything_.”  
  
He looked at her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip and she caught a flash of _something_ in his eyes that gave her the impression that he knew more than he was letting on. That since the moment she walked through his front door he’d been entertaining himself with her questions and her very presence.  
  
Rage flooded through her and she fought down the urge to speed over and smash the tumbler in his hands into his face, grinding the shards into his flesh for good measure. Attacking him wouldn’t help the situation, even if it would make her feel better. If he was going the make a game out of it, dangling subtle hints of ’I know something you don’t’ over her head like a child, then she’d just have to treat him like one.  
  
“Yes, well thank goodness for small favors, or else we wouldn’t have anything to go on,” she said. “So this ritual, is it like a spell or something?”  
  
“It’s quite literally an exorcism. You simply recite the Latin.”  
  
She frowned. “That’s sounds a bit anticlimactic. What‘s the catch?”  
  
He smirked. “You’ll have to trap your demon visitor before you start the chant. And that means getting close to it, which I strongly recommend not doing. Despite your heroic little heart being in the right place, you’re no match for a demon Caroline. None of you are.”  
  
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?” she all but shouted, “This thing wants Bonnie for whatever messed up reasons and I’m not going to sit around with my thumb up my butt and just wait for it to get her. I won’t! Not when there is something I can do about, no matter how dangerous.”  
  
He stared at her, almost through her, in the wake of her outburst for a few moments before setting his liquid snack aside.  
  
“Have dinner with me tomorrow.”  
  
“Excuse me, but how the hell would pretending to eat with you help me help Bonnie?” she scuffed  
  
The corner of his mouth lifted up a fraction before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen bar, leaning in far enough to invade her personal space. Something she’d found he rather enjoyed doing. She watched his eyes with a raised brow as his gaze flirted about her face, settling on her lips longer then anywhere else before his baby blues settled on her own.  
  
“Have dinner with me tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything I can about how to help everyone’s favorite Bennett witch.”  
  
She took step back and crossed her arms. ‘I’ll tell you everything I can’ and ‘I’ll tell you everything I know’ where too entirely different creatures. She still couldn’t be sure whether he was behind this whole demon nonsense to began with, and the way he was dangling his knowledge just out of reach made her even more suspicious. But he did have information, even if it was only the little bit he was willing to provide. If she had to suffer a few hours in his company to get it then she would. It was a small price to pay. And maybe, if Jupiter and Saturn decided to get their asses in gear and aligned themselves in the right way, luck would be on their side and she’d be able to find a solution to the problem before someone got dead. Or worse.  
  
“Fine,” she said. “What time?”  
  
“How about 7:30 for a pre-meal cocktail?” His half leer became a full on one. “I’d say invite a date if it would make you feel more comfortable, but seeing as how Tyler has been in the wind the past few weeks…”  
  
That was a low blow. She uncrossed her arms grabbed her purse, digging her car keys out before slinging it over her shoulder. “Dinner for three it is than. And I better get some answers.”  
  
“I look forward to it,” he nodded. “And would it be bold of me to ask that you wear something that displays all the toning that cheerleading has done for you? Really darling, you should proud of all your hard work and show it more often.”  
  
She followed his line of sight to her bare legs in the shorts she was wearing.  
  
“Please stop trying to wear your little brother’s King of Sleaze crown. It fits him better.” She shook her head. “Goodbye, Klaus. I’ll see myself out.”    
  
He chuckled as she turned and made her way to the front door, slamming it hard enough upon her exit that a nearby window cracked to let him know she wasn’t amused by his attention. She half expected him, or worst Rebekah, to come flying after her about the damage as she walked to her car. But she was able to slip behind the wheel and pull off without any problems and she soon found herself heading back to Bonnie’s.  
  
Taking liberties by being the sheriff’s daughter and going way over the posted speed limit, she turned on the radio and chewed over the fact that she was not at all happy about seeing Klaus again. Sharing a meal with him ranked right up there with getting shot in the head x-amount of times with wooden bullets.  
  
“The things I do for my friends,” she muttered as she turned into Bonnie’s driveway, seeing Matt climbing out of his worse-for-wear pickup.  
  
“Hey,” he said giving her a tentative smile as she pulled up next to him and got out. Things were still a little weird for between them. Their interactions pretty much boiled down to awkward catch-ups with a desperate hope that someone or something would come a long as a distraction so they wouldn’t have to talk anymore.    
  
“Hey yourself,” she smiled back at him. “What brings you this way?”  
  
“Knocked off work early,” he shrugged a shoulder, “I called Elena to see what everyone was up to tonight and she told me you guys were helping out Bon. What’s going on? Is she alright?”  
  
Caroline sighed, “It’s kind of a long story. But she’s okay for right now. We’re trying to figure it out.”  
  
“Guess it’s the reason she’s been out of school all week, huh?” He shook his head and leaned against the side of his truck to stare down at his feet. “I was kind of pissed that nobody told me what was up, but then I remembered I was the one that wanted to be left out of anything vampire related.”  
  
“Matt.” She reached out and grabbed his arm lightly. “None of us blame you for that. You’re the only one that has a real chance of getting out of here and having normal things. The college experience. A career. Starting a family. And the more you’re involved with us the less likely any of that will happen. So we get it.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.” He chuckled humorously, “It’s just that I miss you guys.”  
  
“Of course you do. ‘Cause we’re awesome.”  
  
He looked up at and gave her an incredulous look, but there was a smirk playing on his lips.  
  
“Come on, let’s get inside,” he said as he turned to dig around in his truck. “The food is getting cold.”  
  
“Ohh, I thought I smelled chili fries.” Caroline grinned and grabbed a plastic bag filled with takeout boxes from him as he reached for another.  
  
“So, wanna give me the Cliff Notes on what’s up with Bonnie?” He asked as they started for the house.  
  
“What do you know about exorcisms?”  
  
He gave her a quizzical look as they mounted the porch steps. “My knowledge begins and ends with that Linda Blair movie.”  
  
“Good,” Caroline nodded. “So you know just as much as we do. Which is Jack and Shit.”  
  
They reached the door and Caroline used her free hand to dig the key Bonnie gave her out of her purse.  
  
“So we’re dealing with demons now?”  
  
“Yup. It‘s like we just can‘t catch a break,” she said, her hands finally grasping the single key and ring. “I miss the days when the scariest thing that every happened to us was that time Elena had a pregnancy scare.”  
  
“Wait, what?!”  
  
Giggling deviously, she ignored Matt’s stunned sputtering beside her and unlocked the door to step inside.  
  
“Honey, I’m home!”  


* * *

  
His phone chirped in his pocket just as Dean was finishing the last bite of his burger.  
His brother’s table manners had never been grade A, but they’d really gone down the drain since he made the deal with the crossroad demon. Sam had barely touched his own sandwich. Instead he watched, slightly disgusted yet impressed at how much he was able to stuff in his mouth. Dean eating the worst type of greasy roadside-dinner-slop that could be found on a menu wasn’t a new thing, but it certainly was escalating thing now.  
  
Given their lifestyle, they generally didn’t have to try too hard to keep in shape but still made some sort of effort to stay on top of things. Even Dean, with his penchant for fried foods and lager, would hit the motel carpet for a couple hundred pushups and pull-ups on those long sleepless nights. He would still turn his nose up at anything green, leafy and uncooked, but would scarf it down anyway because he knew it was good for him.  
  
Now he just didn’t try. The late night exercises had turned into all night benders of overpriced gas station beer and what seemed like never ending bottles of whiskey. It pretty much boiled down to one thing: he was giving up. And Sam was starting to reach the point where he didn’t know if he could keep fighting for the both of them.  
  
The waitress came by with another bottle of Heinz 57 to replace the one Dean had finished off after smothering his plate of fries. He managed a thanks around the half chewed food in his mouth and she walked away before he could make anymore requests. Sam was secretly glad. Dean had rattled off his order without barely looking at the menu when she’d first came to their table, but Sam had seen their tiny desert options on the back before handing over the laminated paper. And the last thing Dean’s cholesterol needed was more freaking pie.  
  
He pulled out his phone with a sigh and read over the message that was left for him.  
  
“Ruby came through. We finally got a description and address.”  
  
Dean grunted in response before grabbing his glass of water and washing his last bite down.  
  
“Yeah? Wha’sit say?”  
  
“Bonnie Bennett. 18 years old. Brown hair, green eyes. A little under 5’3”. Senior at Mystic Falls High.” He paused as he scrolled down. “Huh, she even sent a picture.”  
  
He started to pass his phone over but spied the mess of mayo and mustard smeared on Dean’s fingers and thought better of it.  
  
“Dude, really?”  
  
He gave a pointed look at his hands and Dean rolled his eyes before yanking out a few napkins from the table dispenser to wipe them clean.  
  
“There, happy?” He tossed the soiled papers on the table. Sam didn’t get a chance to respond before Dean grabbed the phone away for him, mumbling ‘gimme’ under his breath like a little kid.  
  
He watched as he perused the screen, eyes lighting up in that special way of his when confronted with an attractive woman. And Sam could readily admit that Bonnie Bennett of 740 Juniper Drive had quite a bit going on physically. It didn’t help that the apparent yearbook photo Ruby had attached showed her wearing a red halter top with a matching tiny skirt that, for someone so short, showed off a seemingly endless expanse of sculpted legs.  
  
“Sammy,” Dean looked over at him and wiggled his eyebrows a little. “She’s a _cheerleader_.”  
  
He frowned, wondering if Ruby sent that particular photo just to appeal to Dean‘s very unoriginal fetishes, before snatching the phone back.  
  
“You really have no shame, do you?“  
  
Dean’s lecherous grin said more than enough.  
  
“Come on! She’s banging and she’s legal. Even you have to admit it.”    
  
Sam chose not to answer him, instead typing out a reply before stashing his phone back in his pocket and reaching for his own steadily cooling plate of food.  
  
“It’s too bad we got to gank her,” Dean went on, reaching for a few fries soggy with ketchup with a disappointed shake of his head. “Witches, man. It would be so much easier if they just looked like hags like all the books say they do.”  
  
Sam had been shoving a piece of escaping lettuce back into his burger, but as his brother spoke and he dropped it back onto his plate in disbelief.  
  
“Wait, you’re kidding.” He frowned. “Right?”  
  
Seeing the determined, stony look in his brother’s eyes he knew he meant it. His appetite slowly dying, he pushed his food away. “She’s just a kid, Dean.”  
  
“I don’t care. Getting rid of her is denying our enemy, Sam. And anything that hurts Lilith’s plans, whatever they may be, helps us in the long run.”  
  
Sam sat back heavily in their booth. “I thought this was about your soul.”  
  
Dean shrugged. “Look, I got no illusions that this is going to work. Finding Lilith there and not getting killed before she kills us is a pipedream. We’re rushing into this. You know it, I know it, and Bobby sure as hell has been particularly vocal about it. Lilith wants Sabrina the Teenage Witch and whatever the reason is, and I don‘t plan on letting her get her.”    
  
“Bonnie,” Sam interjected, for some reason feeling the need to, he didn’t know really. Humanize her maybe. “Her name is Bonnie.”  
  
“Whatever.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe this Bonnie knows something that can help us take the bitch down. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way she needs to be taken care of. I don’t know if you remember our track record when it comes witches, Sam. But I do. And none of them have been the benevolent, Glinda type.”  
  
“But what if she is?” He licked his lips. “What if she really is like Ruby said: A natural witch.”  
  
Dean snorted. “And that’s another thing. We really need to talk about your misguided faith in her. She’s a freaking demon.”  
  
“Yeah, one that’s saved our asses more than once.”  
  
“Still. A. Demon. I trust her just about as far as I can throw you.” Dean shook his head. “I know she’s got your head all twisted up with the idea that she can get me out of this deal. But it’s almost been a year and the only promising thing she’s showed up with is this lead on Lilith. Which I’m sure works out in her favor somehow.”  
  
“So what, you just want to let it all go?” Sam crossed his arms. “You just want to give up on your best chance?”  
  
“No. I’m not-” He paused, running a hand across his face and exhaling deeply. “Look, I’m just saying that maybe it’s time we both start getting used to the idea that there might not be an out for this, Sam. And if there is a chance, I’d rather not take it if it means you or Bobbie could get killed.”  
  
Sam scuffed. “So why are we even here?”  
  
“Because I’m still a hunter,“ He said as if it were obvious. “Lilith looking to joy ride a witch can’t be good for anybody. Death sentence or not, I still have a job to do.”  
  
“That’s bullshit Dean, and you know it. You want out of this deal just as much as I want you out of it. You just can’t admit you’re as scared as I am, can you?“ He just shook his head and slid out the booth to stand. “I’m going to the bathroom.”  
  
“Sam, wait. Sammy!”  
  
He ignored him, easing past a waitress with plates balanced on both arms to the back of the restaurant.  
  
He shoved open the restroom door and walked over to the sinks, not bothering to look at his reflection as he turned on the water to splash on his face in an attempt to cool himself down. He was just so damn angry though. The past few months had been a blur of chasing one false hope after another. But now for the first time they had a real shot at breaking Dean’s deal and he was pussyfooting around the chance. Sam understood his reservations. There was a very clear clause in the contract that stated if he did anything to try to renege then both his soul and Sam’s life were forfeit. Dean wasn’t trying to take any unnecessary chances, but Sam didn’t see the point. It was a sick kind of codependency, but he’d rather be dead than go on pretending to live all the while knowing his brother was spending an eternity in torment.  
  
“We are so messed up,” he muttered over the sound of the rushing faucet and finally looking up at the mirror. The poor lighting in the bathroom was doing a great job at enhancing the fatigue showing clearly on his face. It wasn’t the worst he’d looked, he thought as he reached for a handful of paper towels. At least there weren’t any half healed cuts or purpled bruises to go with the bags under his bloodshot eyes. But he definitely felt as tired and fed up as he appeared.  
  
He heard the bathroom door open as he went to dry his face. He didn’t think anything of it as he pressed the paper towels to his wet skin. The diner was busy, accommodating road warriors of mostly the trucker variety turning off the expressway for a gas up and lunch. Considering the crowded dinning room, he’d been surprised to find the urinals and stalls empty.  
  
Though, whoever walked in had his skin pebbling with goose bumps. Sam pulled the paper towels away from his face long enough to glimpse a figure with slightly spiked brown hair and even darker eyes in the mirror standing way too close behind him before his head was shove hard into the faux granite counter.  
  
His mouth was suddenly flooded with the taste of warm, coppery blood and he hoped his nose wasn’t broken as he was pulled up straight only to be shoved with unnatural force into a wall. It happened so fast he didn’t have time to react and found himself being hoisted up enough that his feet no longer touched the ground.  
  
He tried to get out a yell, but the forearm pressing against his throat barely allowed room to inhale. Clawing at the arm with one hand, he used his other to try to free the knife out of his jeans pocket.  
  
“What do you want with Bonnie?!” The man… no kid, because he couldn’t even be out of high school now that Sam was able to get a decent look at him, asked.  
  
The pressure on his throat let up a little and he was able to cough out a reply.  
  
“ _Who_?”  
  
He was pulled away from the wall only to be slammed back against it. Hard. His teeth clamped down on his tongue as his sight exploded in a burst of bright light, but somehow he was able to keep his grip on the hilt of the pocket knife, unclipping it just as his vision cleared.  
  
“Bonnie,” the kid growled at him. “The witch you and your little boyfriend were talking about. The one you plan on killing off.”  
  
Sam wondered briefly how he’d been able to hear them over the general nose of the packed restaurant as he flicked open the knife with a click. The kid flinched at the sound. Which was long enough for him to stab into his stomach, jerking up until the blade hit bone for good measure.  
  
He gained his footing as the kid staggered back, head bowed as both hands gripped at the knife buried hilt deep in his body. Sam took in deep gulps up air, one hand using the wall as leverage as he spread his feet apart for better defense. Whatever this guy was, he knew it wasn’t human. A knife to the gut like that would have had anyone else on their knees.  
  
He watched as the blade was pulled out with a sickening, wet squelch before being tossed aside with a metallic clang, leaving a splotch of blood that was horribly bright against the tiled floor. The kid didn’t seem any worse for wear, only breathing a little heavy. He pawed at his ruined shirt, finger prodding the inflicted wound before his head snapped up with a jerk.  
  
Sam swallowed heavily, eyeing the puckering flesh around unnaturally gold eyes with trepidation. He didn’t know what the hell he was dealing with, but he knew he was out matched strength wise and his only weapon was uncomfortable out of reach now.     
  
The kid snarled, revealing long sharp canines before charging him. Sam had enough time to hunch his shoulders to avoid his head taking another hit as his back met the wall again. He brought his elbow down hard into his collarbone, hearing it break with the blow. The kid roared back in pain, exposing his neck long enough for him to grab the back of his head and chin. He gripped tight, jerking as hard as he could and wincing with the resounding crack.  
  
His grip loosened immediately, his freakish features fading away as his body slumped to the floor with a thud. Sam slide down with him, breathing heavily. He stared at the teen before him for a few seconds before collecting himself and went for his phone. He had to take care of the body before someone came a long. His hands shook a little as he dialed Dean. It had been a long while since he’d received a rush of adrenalin that made that happen.  
  
“ _What_?" he answered. " _You fall in or something_.”  
  
Sam unconsciously scowled. “I kinda have a problem here.”  
  
“ _I told you that mocha-frappu-whatever froufrou drink you had would come back to haunt you. I can ask if they have some air freshener or something_.”  
  
“Not that kind of problem, Dean.” He grunted as he got to his feet, heading slowly towards to the door to lock it, mindful of aches he could already feel developing.  
  
“ _Well what is it, then_?”  
  
“I’m staring at the body of something that just attacked me. That kind of problem.”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
He sighed. “Just get down here, okay. Before someone that works here comes to check things out.”  
  
“ _Be there in a sec_.” There was a pause. “ _Are you okay, Sammy_?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, walking over to the still running sink and winching at the site of blood covering his upper lip. “Just hurry.”  
  
He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket before washing his face again, this time making sure to keep his eyes open. He had to use a bit of toilet paper to plug up one still bleeding nostril, but at least his nose wasn’t broken. By the time he’d scooped up his knife and cleaned up any signs of a struggle there was a knock on the door.  
  
“Sammy!”  
  
“Yeah,” he tossed the soiled napkins in a toilet and flushed before going to let Dean in.  
  
He walked in a took a look around, eyeing the body on the floor before turning his attention to him.  
  
“You hurt bad?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “Just my face. Hit my head good, but I think I’m alright.”  
  
Dean nodded shoved the pistol in his hands into the back of his jeans. “What was it? A demon?”  
  
“No,” he sighed and leaned against the counter. “A broken neck’s never stopped a demon before. This was something different. I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.”  
  
Dean walked over to roughly nudge the prone body with the tip of his boot. “Well whatever it was, it’s dead now.”  
  
Sam watched as he bent over to search his pockets, pulling out a ring of keys and a worn, leather wallet.  
  
He tossed the keys his way and Sam barely caught them. “Driver’s License says Mystic Falls, Virginia. What are the odds of that?”  
  
“Small, but it makes since. When he first grabbed me he was asking about Bonnie.”  
  
“Well that’s just freaking great.” He pocketed the wallet. “Still think that  witch is just an innocent high schooler?”  
  
“All right, you’ve got a point.” Sam conceded. “Now can we do something about this before someone’s stomach starts to disagree with the daily special.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean went over and grabbed the kids legs. “I moved to car around and propped open the back door. Help me get him in the trunk and then you go grab his wheels. We’ll have to find some place to salt and burn him.”  
  
Sam moved to grab him under the shoulders, already dreading the labor ahead of them. The hauled him up and gracelessly maneuvered their way out the bathroom, sneaking out a nearby fire exit into a back alley.


End file.
